


Mamihlapinatapai

by thecryoftheseagulls



Series: Logan Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Deep Roads, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2535212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryoftheseagulls/pseuds/thecryoftheseagulls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mamihlapinatapai - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mamihlapinatapai

“Tell me about…the Hero of Ferelden. What was she like?” Logan asks. He’s seen the way Anders’ face has been drawn and tight since they’d entered the Deep Roads. Anders hasn’t relaxed for a moment the whole journey, always tense and alert, scanning the darkness at odd times as if listening to something only he can hear.

This line of questioning about Anders’ life before Kirkwall has at least managed to distract the healer – he looks more relaxed than he has yet, lounging back on the fallen pillar beside Logan to consider the question.

“Zeryn?” Anders smiles faintly. “She was a good friend to me. Saved me from the templars, you know. If they’d recaptured me that time, I don’t know what they would have done. Made me Tranquil or maybe just finally executed me.” He looks troubled, for a moment, and then pushes the thought away. “It was…hard for her, being in Amaranthine, alone, facing the concerns of rebuilding the Wardens after the Blight while fighting off the darkspawn incursion that was going on at the time.”

“Seems like a lot of responsibility for anyone,” Logan says.

“Yes, and she…didn’t really consider herself up to the task, really. She was a self-proclaimed ‘duster,’ no natural leader (she said), and then there was the fact that Alistair was in Orlais at the time. I think that’s what troubled her most, actually.”

“Alistair?”

“The Grey Warden who was with her during the Blight, the one they said had a claim to Cailan’s throne?” When Logan ahs and nods, Anders continues, “They were lovers, you know. I suppose…you don’t go through something like the Blight, the last of your Order, and not form a strong bond. The way she talked about him…” he chuckles. “Maker’s breath, it was like the stars revolved around him. Not, overtly, you understand – just, this smile she’d get when she’d say his name or the way she’d look so incredibly lost when she thought you weren’t looking. And then there was some bragging about how handsome he was and how tough he was, when you’d get a few drinks in her. We’d try to outdrink Oghren at the Keep some nights, her and I, and that never ended well. That dwarf can hold his liquor. Come to think of it, I’m not sure he was ever sober in all the time I knew him.”

Logan smiles, watching the way Anders’ face brightens as he talks, his hands gesturing broadly to illustrate the tale. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the mage look so…peaceful, golden-brown eyes glowing in remembered happiness. It’s warming, that look, and Logan has a sudden desire to do whatever it takes to make Anders look so at ease all the time.

Anders laughs lightly again, not noticing the fondness growing in Logan’s eyes. “Anyways,” he says, “Turns out she had every reason to brag about the man. He was a looker. Tall, broad, big green eyes that made you want to do things to him. Friendly sort, too, always making jokes at everyone else’s expense and then falling all over himself in embarrassment whenever teased himself.” He grins, looks to meet Logan’s eyes, and there’s something warm and affectionate in his own gaze as he says, “You’d have liked him.”

Logan shifts on the pillar, his knee bumping into Anders. The healer doesn’t pull away.

“She sounds like a lucky woman,” Logan says.

“Hm.” Anders looks away, still smiling, but Logan feels the world lurch, as if Anders has remembered himself and pulled back from…wherever those heated looks were taking them. “Yeah, they were good together.”

With a sigh that’s almost inaudible, Logan asks, “So who is this Oghren you mentioned?” 

***

Across the fire, Carver glowers at the pair of them. That mage and his brother are sitting entirely too close together. Andraste’s tits, are their knees touching? Who does that? Bad enough they’re stuck down here in the Deep Roads with little but darkspawn for company. Does Logan really have to go and practically ignore everyone else in favor of Anders as well?

At his side, Varric blows on the bowl of soup in his hands. “Five sovereigns says they shack up before the expedition’s over,” he says, eyes also on the two apostates.

“Who, Logan and Anders?” Carver snorts loudly. “I believe you’re overestimating my brother’s ability to woo.”

“His intentions seem pretty obvious to me. The former Warden seeking the comfort of his fellow mage’s arms in the darkness of the hated Deep Roads – has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps for one of your tales. But I promise you, Logan doesn’t move that quickly. He waits. And waits. And waits. Rather lie down and be ignored than pressure somebody into something he’s not sure they want, the bore.”

Varric grins. “So…five sovereigns then?”

Carvers reaches for the flask at his feet and takes a swig. “Five sovereigns. You’re on, dwarf.”


End file.
